


Cliché

by Morriggann



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, cliche stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morriggann/pseuds/Morriggann
Summary: A student meets Tom Hiddleston through mutual friends. A one night stand and a few weeks later, everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wouldn't write RPF again, but my brain is fucking with me. I need to not think so hard. So, forgive me for this.

June 1st, 2011

 

~~Dear diary,~~

~~Nah... not diary, that sounds weird, I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll call you Clio, after the muse.~~

 

_Dear Clio,_

  _Ah, there you go, this makes sense!_

  _So, here I am, sitting at the airport in Montreal. I’m waiting for my flight to Heathrow. I’m so nervous, I want to puke. It’s a whole new life that’s waiting for me and I hope it’s like all the dreams I’ve ever had. I need to see something new, meet people that will knock my socks off._

  _Hmmm…that sounds bad, I know. It’s not that I don’t love Mom or Erik, it’s just that Montreal doesn’t seem to be enough. Canada either. I’ve traveled, I’ve met people but I’m not amazed captivated by what I see any more._

  _I remember the promise Dad had me make him: “Be happy with whatever you do, never stop being amazed.” I’ve really wanted to keep that promise since he passed and now’s the time. I’m 20 years old and it’s about time I do something to pursue_ my _dreams._

  _College came and went, but a degree in arts is too wide. I thought I wanted to be a librarian but I’m not sure it’ll make me happy. That knowledge, I know it’s not lost on me, but I don’t feel it’ll take me anywhere. Instead, I’m going on an adventure._

  _You see, Clio, I’ve enrolled in an Au Pair company. I’m leaving for a year to be a nanny in England. It’s a whole new thing for me and I love kids. So why not? It’ll take me away from here and into a new world. A whole year there, in a small town called Bromley. It’s gonna be so awesome!_

  _The family even said the weekends would be mine to use as I pleased, and I could travel to London since it’s not that far. LONDON! You know I’ve always wanted to see London! Things to see, people to meet._

  _So here we go, they’re calling for my flight! United Kingdom, here I come._

 ~;~

 

July 21st, 2011

 

_Dear Clio,_

  _SAVE ME!! Please tell me what I’m doing here! Oh, my Goooood! I wanted an adventure and what I got was a ride to hell. Those kids will kill me before the year ends._

  _It’s like those two little monsters, twins, get up at night while I think they’re sleeping, and they plot on how to best drive me mental on a daily basis. One of them ruined breakfast the other day by throwing a tantrum, climbing on the counter, and pushing off the bowl of pancake batter. In the meantime, his sister escaped my attention and went into my room. She ransacked my toiletries and ruined all of my makeup. I’m still wiping eyeshadow from my desk._

  _I’ve been here less than two months and I want to give up. My day ended with a sobfest hidden in my tiny bathroom. I hate it here._

  _On top of it all, it’s not true that I have all my weekends. The monsters’ mom wants me to stick around when she goes out and doesn’t take the boys with them. I’m so disappointed, this is not how I saw things happening._

  _What do I do, Clio?_

 ~;~

 

December 14th, 2011

 

_Dear Clio,_

  _How did six months go by so fast? One minute I was arriving here, the next I was bitching about the twins, and now...now...this is my home. This country is my home. Maybe this family isn’t mine, but I know I belong here. Being Au Pair isn’t all that, but it at least got me here. I will get through the next six months then get on my own._

  _I’ve put the twins on my regimen. It’s not true that they'll stomp all over me and I found the way to make them listen to me so the last few months haven’t been so bad._

  _Also, Mrs. Parker is now fair. She sees the efforts I’m making and is giving me more weekends off, so I managed to visit around. And... big thing, she accepted to sponsor me for a student visa. She’s offered me to stay at the house, help with the twins on weekend - they’ll be starting school in the fall, too._

  _So, I’m going back to university! Next fall, I’m headed to the University of Kent to start a Degree in History! Either I’ll teach or research. But right now, I need to broaden my horizons._

  _I know, it's sudden. Here I was, a year ago, all happy to have been chosen to be Au Pair, wanting to be free, and now, I’ll be a student. It’s strange how life and priorities change so fast._

  _I think it’s this country. I knew I loved England, but I didn’t know I loved it so. Now, it’s like I want to soak up everything that’s ever been said or written about it, hence my choice of a major._

  _Here’s to new adventures!_

 ~;~

 

June 16th, 2015

 

_Dear Clio,_

_What a ride!! I finally have my master’s degree! Time flew by so quickly in the last three years and I’ve been so busy. But I’m so excited because I’ve just finished my master’s and have already gotten a job._

  _For the next three years, maybe more, I’ll be Professor Clementine Baxter’s assistant while I prepare my Doctorate. We both agree that I need to do to a lot of research and working for her will allow me to pile up money for student loans. So, when I’m ready, I’ll officially enroll back for my Ph.D. I can’t afford it before then._

  _Professor Baxter is so awesome that she’s even renting me the small studio above her garage. She and her husband Fletch are welcoming me, so I push on and finish my studies. It’s weird though, they’re my age! Maybe if I hadn’t stopped studying, I’d be a Professor too, but that’s another thing._

  _I left the Parker household eighteen months ago, but it feels like yesterday. The twins didn’t want to see me go but I was ready to move on. I still visit from time to time, but they have a new nanny now and school and their activities are keeping them busy._

  _Here’s to a new start, Clio! Another phase of my life begins!_

 ~;~

May 21, 2018

 

_Dear Clio,_

  _Here I am, officially a Doctor in British History. I can’t believe it! I’ve worked so hard but I’m finally there! And even better than that, Professor Clem’s taken me on as her permanent research assistant. That is “until you find what you truly desire to do with your Ph.D.”, or so she says._

  _I’m happy being her assistant for now. It’ll give me time to really decide what I want to do. I’m either aiming to be a Professor at Uni or start research of my own. There’s another student who just finished in criminology who’s enrolled in a research program about old crimes. I’ve talked to him about the Princes in the Tower and Richard III. So, we might do joint research. I’m still thinking about it._

  _In the meantime, I’ll still live with Clem and Fletch. Just writing their names like that is strange but I’ve gotten used to it. We separate school life and home life and that’s just perfect. We don’t always do things together; I have my life and my friends outside of work, but I love hanging out with them._

  _They’re like siblings to me, so it’s fun to be able to relate to the same things. They’re trying to have a baby, too, so I’m doing my best to leave them their space a little more if you know what I mean! It hasn’t worked so far but when it does, I’ll move out. I wouldn’t want to impose on a family._

  _I’ll try to be more regular from now on since I’m not studying all the time. It’ll keep me in line with other things, with bullet journals and all._

  _On that note, dearest Clio, I have a date tonight! The nice guy working the muffin counter at the Uni’s cafeteria asked me out! Wish me luck!_


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on, Emi, get your head out of that book. We have company tonight, remember?”

 Comfortably sunk in the sofa, Émeline looked toward the door, seeing Clementine waving her to come. Closing her _History of Vikings,_ she tilted her head to the side and said, “So, what you’re really saying is “Please, Emi, come help me with dinner?”

 It was a running gag that Clementine was a disaster in the kitchen and that it was usually Fletch, her husband, that cooked for them unless Émeline joined them for meals.

 Pushing off the blanket from her knees, Émeline stood and stretched, seeing it was late already; the sun had set early, as it did in late October. She put on her ballerinas and smoothed her skirt, then followed Clem down to the main house. “So, what’s the menu? Please tell me you have everything you need and that we won’t need to send Fletch out?”

 “I have everything I need, darling. I do, it’s just… I wanted to do something I’ve never made... like duck confit!”

 Facepalming, Émeline sighed. “Oh, Clem. Duck confit needs to macerate for twenty-four hours or more!”

 Clementine was horrified. “No! Why didn’t they tell me that at the market?”

 “Did _you_ ask them before buying the duck?”

 “No,” the woman admitted freely, flushing. “But now, we don’t have anything for dinner!”

 “You’ve got me, Clem,” Émeline replied, patting her back. “Let’s see what I can work with.”

 They made their way to the kitchen, where Fletch was setting the table like a pro. “Hey, Emi. Coming to help?”

“Didn’t really have a choice, she ordered me to put my book down!” Émeline grinned at Fletch, who winked at her, then looked at what she was faced with.

 On the counter before her was an array of ingredients that normally fit well together. She took a moment to find something that would have the flavors mix well together, checked the fridge, then looked at Clem. “Okay, pour me some wine, pour yourself some wine, and sit down,” she said. “Oh, and... take notes for next time!”

 Within an hour and a half, Émeline had prepared dessert; a dark chocolate mousse was in the fridge and caramel biscuits were in the oven. In the meantime, she prepared a series of entrees for four: pomegranate duck tartare, seared duck strips with caramelized onions, rolled up duck tortillas, arugula salad with roasted pine nuts and balsamic vinaigrette, and brie and camembert with French baguette.

 “There’s enough food to last us for the evening. And if not, we can order Chinese,” said Émeline.

 Fletch laughed. “That is not an option. Tom is a night owl and the Chinese place closes at eight.”

 “Well, I can always make pancakes later on,” Émeline replied. She glanced at her friend. “You should’ve hired me as a cook, not a research assistant!”

 Clem nodded with a smile. “Yes, sweetie, you’re a lifesaver, at work and at home. I won’t forget it. And I promise you’ll love our guest. Tom is a great m-”

 Just as she finished her sentence, the doorbell rang at the same time as the oven timer did so Émeline went to her biscuits to finalize them with a drip of caramel and sea salt while the couple answered the door and welcomed their friend.

 Émeline had heard of him, a certain Tom Hiddleston; a well-known actor that had gone to Eton with Fletch years ago. But the young woman rarely kept with the rich and famous, enjoying books more than television.

 She set up the plates that were served cold on the table while the others were keeping warm in the oven. The wine was poured, and the introductions made. Émeline found the actor charming, handsome even. His smile was radiant and his eyes bright.

 While he chatted with Fletch, Clem nudged her. “Like him?”

 Émeline flushed. “W-What? No!” She sighed. “He’s handsome and so...what’s the word? Calming. His voice is soothing.”

 “Isn’t it? I fangirled when Fletch told me they were old chums. But now it’s old news. I’m just happy to see him once in a while. The man is everywhere.”

 “Is he? He’s in demand?”

 “Oh, hun, I’ll need to educate you on The Hiddles!” Clem grinned and went back to her duck strips.

 Picking at her salad, Émeline glanced sideways at Tom, taking in his strong jaw, his curly brown hair, and his goatee. He grinned at her, lifting his fork.

 “This is absolutely delicious! Clem said you saved dinner?”

 “I did. I’m guessing you know her talents in the kitchen?”

 He laughed. “My stomach remembers well, yes.”

 The man sitting in front of her continued to compliment her about the food but to Emi, _h_ e was the delicious one; there was no way she’d tell him that, though. He was the kind of hot she had rarely encountered but loved; a gentleman and an artist. To some, it was the physical traits that were a type but to Émeline, his mind was his main attraction, though his smile flustered her.

 The way he spoke about good old times with Fletch, his love of literature and music, his politeness, and sexy smile, everything about Tom seduced Émeline. She barely spoke during dinner, listening to his stories. He had traveled all around the world for his movies, met all kinds of people, and that fascinated her. All she’d ever seen was Canada and her precious United Kingdom.

 Wine flowed, then port with dessert, even a little digestive drink as everyone sat in the den. Émeline refused the digestive, not being a big fan of it, but also because she knew the dishes had to be done. Seeing how Clem was faring, it was certain she wouldn’t be doing them; she was massively drunk; giggling and laughing loudly.

 Eventually, Fletch excused himself to take her to bed once Clem had fallen asleep against his shoulder. Émeline gently squeezed his forearm. “Don’t worry about it. She was nervous about dinner and she’s had a long stressful week with the end of the semester. It’s just the alcohol mixing with it all. She’ll be fine tomorrow.

He nodded. “I know, it’s just a bit disappointing. She was so looking forward to seeing Tom!”

 The actor laughed. “It’s not like I won’t be back, Fletch. I’m just a bit...busy. Tell her I’ll be back for another dinner as soon as I can.”

 Fletch nodded. “Thanks, man, I appreciate that.” He yawned. “Well, I think she gave me the sleeping bug!”

 “Get to bed, Fletch, I’ll take care of the dishes, but you owe me big time. I made dinner too, you know!”

 The man grinned. “I won’t forget, Emi.” He kissed Émeline’s cheek, then shook Tom’s hand. He scooped up his wife and carried her out of the room. “Goodnight, you two.”

 Turning to Tom, Émeline smiled. “It was lovely to meet you, Tom. I’ll get your coat.”

 “Nope, no way. I’m not leaving until dishes are done. I’ll help you.”

 “That’s not necess-” Émeline was about to protest when she saw his face, eyebrow raised; there was no convincing him otherwise. “Fine. But I wash and you dry. I hate drying dishes.”

 “Yes ma’am!” Tom followed her to the kitchen, grabbing a dishtowel while she filled the sink. “So, tell me, how is it working with Clem?”

 “It’s everything I wanted. I just didn’t know that’s what I wanted.” She told him about her Au Pair experience and college before that, which led her to her present situation. “I’ve always loved studying and history as well. But the Vikings have become a passion and I hope to be able to translate that into a fruitful career.”

 Listening intently, Tom asked a question here and there while they shared wine and did the dishes. Once they were done, Émeline opened another bottle of wine, grabbed a pack of grapes and leftover cheese, bringing it to the living room. The two sat together, talking about everything and nothing; from music to poetry and from cooking to kids.

 His movies also came on the subject and Tom was charmed to know that Émeline had no clue about his work. “It’s actually refreshing. I meet so many people who only want to talk about my work. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I’d just like to talk about something else once in a while.”

 “You hit the jackpot with me, then! It’s not that don’t see movies but I’m not that into the whole celebrity lifestyle. But I could look up your movies for next time we meet,” Émeline commented.

 “You want to meet up again?” Tom asked. A smile broke out on his face.

 She swallowed hard, feeling a hot flash coming on. “W-Well, I know you’re busy working, but it’d be nice.” She took a long sip of wine, nearly screaming in her mind. She had never been this forward with anyone she was meeting for the first time. Her previous serious relationship had developed over months. She cleared her throat. “If you can...you know, at some point. It’d be nice,” she added, her voice quivering.

 Tom smiled. “I’m leaving for a shoot, but when I come back, I’d love to cook you dinner. I’ve seen what you can do, it would be my turn to reciprocate! I’m not bad in a kitchen.”

 Smiling, Émeline leaned forward to kiss Tom’s cheek, but he turned his head at the last minute and their lips met. She jerked back, stunned; staring at him for a moment. “What...why...uhm…”

 “I’m sorry, that was too forward,” Tom apologized, his hands up. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met,” he explained.

 “Could you be any more cliché, Tom?” Émeline laughed but she wanted to kiss him just as much. She put her wine glass down, leaned forward, and kissed him hard, cupping his face. She hummed when he responded to her, feeling his tongue on her lips. A long shiver went down her spine and Émeline breathed in deeply. _Oh, God, has it been_ that _long?_ She deepened the kiss, wrapping one arm around Tom’s shoulders.

 He brought her closer, sitting Émeline on his lap, his hand roaming up her back to twine in her hair. Neither pulled away; only the heavy breathing sounds rose in the air. That was until some sense returned to Émeline. She reluctantly put an end to the kiss, looking at Tom. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I… I don’t have time. I just finished my Ph.D.; I can’t get into something seeing what I need to do.”

 Tom shut her up with a kiss, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not either, Émeline. I’m halfway across the world most of the time.” He smiled, nipping her lips. “But one night of fun can’t be that bad?”


	3. Chapter 3

The less than subtle proposition stunned Émeline but charmed her as well. She so rarely let herself have fun, her head always in books. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled. “Not on Clem’s couch. She’d kill me if she found out.”

 “Lead the way, darling,” Tom replied. He grabbed their glasses while Émeline picked up the last unopened wine bottle on the counter.

 She hurried through the long hallway and staircase from the house to the garage loft, locking the door behind them. Gesturing to the living room part, Émeline laughed. “Here is my palace! And over there is my flimsy cot,” she added with emphasis, showing her fluffy bed.

 Looking around, Tom grinned and sipped his wine. “Well, it’s much better than the flat I had while at Uni. I shared a two-bedroom with four people. Trust me, you don’t want that.” He sat on the couch, glancing at the book Émeline had put down earlier. “ _La présence de Vikings en Grande-Bretagne_ ,” he read in French. “Your name is French,” he suddenly pointed out.

 Snorting, Émeline put his flat comment on the amount of wine he had ingurgitated. “You’re _so_ clever, Tom,” she replied with a grin.

 He chuckled. “I can’t believe I said that. I guess I’m drunker than I thought!” To add to his declaration, he lifted his glass as if toasting and sipped again. “It’s nice to be able to let go and not watch everything I say.”

 “That must get annoying.”

 “It does get heavy sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, but some privacy or a simple friendly night is nice.”

 Tom sunk in deeper into the sofa, turning to face her when Émeline came to sit near him, folding her legs beneath her. “So, to answer your question, I’m French Canadian, yes, but my name is old. Mom was obsessed with French Literature when I was born. I’ve never met anyone else with my name.”

 “I have, but I travel a lot!” Tom replied. He reached to gently rub her cheek with his thumb. “It only makes you peculiar.”

 Flushing, Émeline tried to hide it by being coy. “Wow! You know how to make a girl feel special!” She winked and finished her wine in one gulp, then topped her glass. She then settled more comfortably and looked at Tom who had a boyish grin on his face. “Are you not used to be this drunk or to be one on one with someone that doesn’t fangirl over you?”

 “Both, actually,” Tom admitted freely. “As I said, I rarely get to do that.”

 “Be drunk?”

 “Yeah!” He leaned in. “But really, not having to talk about my films is good, too.”

 “Then tell me, good sir, what would you like to talk about?”

 Pondering, he sat back. “How about those Vikings?” he said, pointing to her book. “Why would you read about that?”

 Wondering if he’d changed his mind about them sleeping together, she happily explained her doctorate subject. Émeline told him about her passion for early history, but also how she had always been fascinated by the Vikings. “Like many others, I believe they were the ones that discovered North America. It was proven they were there first. Studying them here might help flesh out those facts. I need to decide if I’m doing field work or not.”

 “Interesting! Is that what you’re working on with Clem?”

 “Not really. I have to develop my project first. And I’ll do that while I take over Clem’s classes. She’ll be taking a break soon and I’ll take over for her while she’s away.”

 Tom frowned. “They’re going away? Fletch didn’t tell me.”

 “They’re going for IVF treatments and she needs to have less stress in her life. Teaching and grading papers aren’t part of that, so I’ll take over.”

 “I knew they’ve been wanting children, but it hasn’t been working at all, huh?”

 She shook her head. “Not at all. They went through so many tests and nothing is wrong with either of them. So, this is the path they’ve chosen,” Émeline explained. “While I manage her classes, I can figure out if teaching is what I want to do with my doctorate or if I definitely dive in on research and fieldwork.”

 “That’s a good plan.” Tom sighed while leaning his head on the back of the sofa. “Do you ever think about doing that back home, to Canada?”

 Émeline shook her head. “No. When I left for Au Pair, I knew all I’d go back for would be visits. I don’t feel an attachment there anymore. But don’t tell my mom, it would break her heart.”

 “Oh, your poor Mum! You don’t get along with her?”

 A shrug was Émeline’s response. “I love her, but we’re too different. It was just me and her growing up and I was independent early on. She was more like a friend than a mom when I needed her, so, we’re not as connected as a mother and daughter should be. But we’re both fine with that. I know she’d love to have me around more so she could make up for it, but she understands that my life is here now.”

 Tom tilted his head to the side. “What is it about England you love so much?”

 “What _don’t_ I love should be the question?” Émeline asked. “I feel like I’m home here. I wish I could tell you why, but I haven’t figured it out in almost eight years here.” She sipped her wine, feeling more and more relaxed. “What about you? Do you like traveling as much as you do?”

 “Most of the time, I do. It’s wonderful to discover new countries, new customs, and different cultures, but to be honest, I don’t nearly have as much time to do that as I’d like. My schedule is so packed that the free time I have is spent to rest or unwind.”

 Humming, Émeline stared at Tom while he spoke. _He_ really _is cute...in a non-perfect way. He has a scar on his forehead. He talks with his hands a lot too. And look at those curls! I wonder if he likes his hair being pulled when…”_

 “Émeline? Darling, are you alright?”

 With a gasp, Émeline came out of her thoughts, feeling Tom’s hand on her cheek. It was warm, sending shivers down her spine. “I’m...fine. Sorry, got lost in my thoughts for a minute.”

 “I saw that,” Tom replied. “More wine?”

 “Sure!” Émeline knew it wasn’t a good idea, dreading the morning hangover. She watched Tom as he carefully topped her glass again, then settled back comfortably. “I’ll regret this in the morning. I never drink this much!”

 Tom laughed. “Well, your boss is in the same state, so I’m sure she’ll understand!”

 Émeline smiled and clinked her glass with his. “Seeing I made dinner for a guest I didn’t know, she sure will.”

 “But you know me now, don’t you?” The actor flashed a smile and move toward her, his lips brushing hers. “We’re not on Clem’s couch anymore.”

 The insinuation was clear, so Émeline grabbed his glass, put it down, settling hers next to it. “We’re not. But...my bed would be more comfortable.” She sustained his gaze, swallowing hard.

 It didn’t take a second for him to pull her up, haul her over his shoulder and take her to bed. She had to muffle a squeal, laughing when he crawled over her. He kissed her hard, Émeline tasting wine on his lips. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she forced him to let his weight over her and she lifted her legs to his hips. Feeling him aroused, she moaned in the kiss. “It’s been a long time, Tom,” she whispered.

 “I’ll be gentle, darling, I promise.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he kissed the tip of her nose, then crawled down her body. “But you’re overdressed…”

 Giving him a cheeky smile, she scrambled off the bed and quickly stripped. Tom laughed wholeheartedly, unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, Émeline.”

 “I know, but like I said, it’s been a long time,” she answered as she dropped her tunic on the floor. Her jeggings were already there, and soon after, her bra joined the pile. She stood, staring at him, then stalked toward him. “And I won’t chance you leaving.”

 He growled seductively, nearly ripping off his shirt and tie, and grabbed Émeline at the waist. Gently throwing her on the bed, he slipped his jeans off, showing he’d gone commando. The woman gasped. “Well, hello!” She bit her lip and reached for him, her fingertips grazing him from his groin to his throat. “Now...where were we?”

 With a shiver, Tom leaned over and licked her erect nipple. “Right here,” he whispered on her skin.

 Arching into him, Émeline gripped the bedding. “N-no… No time for this. I need you now, Tom.”

 His eyes narrowed and ran his hand along her side. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered with a grin. He shuffled back, stood from the bed, and gripped her at the thighs. Bringing her to the side of the bed, Tom spread her legs and said, “Let’s go for a ride, darling.”

~;~

 

When Émeline woke, her world was spinning. Lights were blinding and no matter how far she reached to turn it off, she couldn’t. It was only when she groaned and heard a thump that she realized it was the sun. The sound took over louder when she strained to sit up.

  _Ow. What is that thumping?_ She listened for a moment, recognizing the steady sound. _Oh, it’s my heartbeat. Why is it so loud?_ She groaned and cried out, “Make it stop!” The sound of her own voice was even worse. She whimpered and curled up in her bed, but two seconds later, she was scrambling to get off the bed.

 Hurrying to the bathroom, she regretted the enormous amount of wine she’d had. She usually sustained it well but so much red wine after copious amounts of food was too much. Her stomach took control, emptying its contents in the toilet.

 When she was done and the toilet flushed, Émeline laid on the cool tiles. “Great job, moron,” she told herself out loud. She wiped her forehead, trying to calm the toiling of her insides, taking deep cleansing breaths. “How did I let it get so f…”

 It was then a pair of blue eyes flashed in her mind, then a kind smile and hot lips trailing along her body. “That’s why I let it get so far. Tom…” Frowning, Émeline sat up slowly, then managed to stand, holding herself up along the counter. She brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth, then peeked into the loft; Tom wasn’t there. “Tom?” she called out. No answer.

 “Well, that was nice…Sex ‘em up and leave ‘em,” she murmured as she made her way back to the bed. She flopped down in the covers, turning her head to the side, then saw the notebook she usually left near the phone standing upright against a water bottle. She grabbed the pad to see an elegant handwriting.

 

_Dearest Émeline,_

  _I’m sorry to escape like a thief in the night, but I have obligations early in the morning. As drunk as I was, I need to get back to my flat to shower and get ready._

  _Do know I had a fantastic time with you, I truly enjoyed your company. I will keep you in my memories but hope I see you again. Like we said, no relationship but we could be friends?_

  _Again, my apologies for leaving you like this. I feel like a pompous ass!_

  _Love,_

_Tom_

_xox_

 

Émeline snorted. 'Love, Tom.' Cute, really.” She sighed and took the water bottle, downing half of it to wash down the bile that was still in her stomach. _At least he left a note,_ she told herself while putting the bottle back on the nightstand _._ Closing her eyes, she napped, blue eyes in her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Dear Clio, _

_ I wonder where he is, what he’s doing. I know it’s odd, he was just a one-time thing, but gawd, what a night. Some of it keeps coming back to me through the fogs of drunkenness; his hands, his mouth, his fingers. And those blue eyes… _

_ I hope Clem and Fletch invite him again soon, though I know he works a lot. Might not see him again either, so might as well not count on that. _

_ But Clio, what if? What if, you know? Hmmm... _

_~;~_

 

The encounter with Tom now a sweet memory, Émeline continued with her life. Sometimes, a flash of blue eyes would appear before her, making her smile. Occasionally, she’d see him on magazine covers, and for the first time in her life, she took the time to read a few. Tom was exactly as he was in the stories as when she’d met him, and somehow, it reassured her she hadn’t slept with a sleazy guy; combined with what Clem and Fletch had told her in the next few days without knowing she’s slept with him.

 But that changed quickly.

 As the weeks went by, Émeline delved deeply into her research while beginning to take over some of Clementine’s classes. The woman had begun IVF treatments and was feeling the side effects to a molecular level. Her mood swings were intense and her restlessness as well. They knew it would fade soon but, in the meantime, both Fletch and Émeline were careful around her, treating her like a fragile bird.

 So, when Émeline began feeling ill, she hid it from her friend; also remaining far as not to pass anything on to her. But as the days went by, her symptoms didn’t wane down. Her stomach was churning, her breath was short, and her breasts were sore. Putting it on her period coming, Émeline didn’t make a fuss out of it nor did she have time to. She’d picked her research subject: the presence of the Vikings in the New World.

 Although many had done the same research, the young woman still believed she could find more traces of them by starting in Scandinavia. Clem agreed; if some had returned, there could be traces. So, to help out after retiring from her classes, the Professor guided Émeline once her plan had been laid out.

 But teaching classes while doing research quickly took a toll on Émeline. She came home overly tired and it took everything for her to drag herself out of bed in the morning. Clem sympathized; her own medicine intake rendered her weak from day to day.

 One weekend morning after sleeping in until lunch, Émeline rummaged through her bathroom cupboard to find a heating pad for her lower back. Her eyes suddenly grazed over a colorful pack of tampons and her heart dropped. “Holy sh…” she whispered. She sat heavily on the floor, a wide range of emotions going through her as she stared at the pack of hygienic products. Trying to count the days since she’d slept with Tom, her mind was buzzing with fear.

 Trembling, she got up to find her phone to count on a calendar. But she didn’t have to. The frequent need to pee, the aches, the sudden aversion to celery and bell peppers made it clear. Émeline was nearly certain she was pregnant.

 Instead of ignoring it, she hurried to get dressed and headed out to the drugstore to buy a test; coming home with three. She was thankful Clem and Fletch had gone out to brunch. Thinking about them and her situation only made her feel like a horrible person. “One short night of fun and a baby while they’ve been trying for years,” she told herself as she unboxed the three different tests.

 One after the other, Émeline peed on the sticks, lining them up, then washed her hands. “Three minutes… three minutes,” she murmured. To pass time, she cleaned up around the bathroom while holding back nausea. _One more symptom_ , she thought.

 The three minutes passed slowly but the results were the same on all the tests: positive. Hiding them, Émeline managed to hold back tears. “What am I going to do? Clem is going to kill me!” She went to sit on her bed, then laid on her side, curling up while tears fell. _At my age, this doesn’t happen! I’m on the pill and Tom put a condom_. “Or did he?” Thinking back, Émeline couldn’t remember. “Stupid wine.”

 Her mind restless, she tossed and turned until fatigue took over. Dreams of crying babies and a screaming Clementine made it that her sleep was fitful more than anything. She woke in a gasp when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

 “Emi? You’re dreaming, sweetie. You’re fine.” Clem was sitting by her side, stroking her hair. “You’re working too much. Perhaps we should find someone else to take over my classes?”

 “Hmm… maybe. I’ll think about it.” Émeline’s face flushed as she tried to remember where she’d put the tests, then saw they weren’t on the counter. She’d put them in the drawer of the bathroom counter. She cleared her throat, sitting up. “Uhm… How was brunch?”

 Clementine narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. “It was alright. The eggs were cold, though Fletch said it was in my imagination. I guess the meds are acting up again.” She stood, heading for the door, then turned back. “I can see you’ve been feeling low lately. Is it just work or is something else going on? Did something happen with Tom?”

 The question stunned Émeline, but she managed to hide it. “I’m just tired, Clem. Period’s coming and I’m still adjusting to the schedule. I’ll be fine,” she lied. “And about Tom, no. We just did dishes then he went home.” Having to lie to her friend until she found a way to tell her the news made her feel her like a horrible friend.

 “I’m glad you had fun that night. He’s great, isn’t he? He should come by when he returns from Australia in a few months.”

 “Oh? New project?”

 “Something to do with promotion and voice over. Tom’s always all over the place. It’s like he can’t settle down,” Clementine explained.

 Each word sunk deeper into Émeline’s mind. _I can’t even talk to him and if I ask for his number, she’ll know something’s up._ Still, she tried. “I wish I had more time to talk to him. He’s so articulate and intelligent.”

 Winking, Clementine smiled. “I can get you his number. I don’t think he’d mind. He texted Fletch that he really enjoyed his night and I’ll guess you were part of what he enjoyed.”

 “Thanks, Clem.” Relieved, Émeline swung her legs off the bed. “Time I eat something. I slept in late.”

 “How about a walk around the park later? It’s sunny out,” the Professor offered.

 “Sure, let me get up properly and I’ll join you.”

 When Clem left, Émeline sat for a long time, wondering what to do. _Do I tell her? Do I hide it?_ She put a hand on her still flat belly and felt a tug. _I can’t do this alone...Can I?_ Blinking back tears, she rejoiced in the fact that she could soon contact Tom.

 The walk took her mind off things and Émeline was able to relax without fearing to let out her secret. A nice breeze flew so she enjoyed the fresh air. It helped that nausea receded. She remembered that in the last few days, even when she didn’t know she was pregnant, she was nauseous at all times of the day. _So, the fresh air is good. Maybe I could get to work by walking in the morning._ A nudge from Clem brought her back to the walk.

 “So, tell me, anything new in your life? I feel like I’m missing out on everything since I’ve started the treatments. I sleep half the time and nag Fletch the rest.”

 “N-Nothing. I’ve been doing my best with your classes and sorting out my research. I think it’ll be a while before I’m doing fieldwork.”

 “Oh, honey, yes. It took me years after my Doctorate to get out there. But it’s worth the wait,” Clementine explained.

 That was how they’d met, Émeline having been hired as an assistant to another Professor, Clem’s mentor. They’d worked the dig together, one related to the hopes of finding a long-lost queen. The women had hit it off quickly and Émeline had followed Clem back to Bromley to finish her Doctorate. The rest was history.

 Thinking carefully before she spoke, Émeline was dying to tell her friend and mentor about her news but couldn’t bring herself to. After so many miscarriages and now IVF treatments that affected her moods, there was no way to know how Clem would react.

 The walk ending with the women returning home with hot tea and scones prepared by Fletch. The three of them chatted for a while until dinnertime came; Chinese was ordered but Émeline stayed away from wine, pretending to be nursing a headache.

 The evening was cut short by a bout of nausea on Clem’s part. But as soon as Émeline was in her loft, her stomach grumbled so hard that she was face down in the toilet in a matter of seconds.

 “And this is just the start,” she whispered as she lifted.

~;~

 

After her class in the middle of the week, Émeline drove to the clinic. She’d made an appointment the previous Monday to see an OB. The nervousness she felt was overwhelming, even more, when she imagined Clem finding her there.

 To her relief, the nurse practitioner saw her quickly, taking vitals, drawing blood, and getting a urine sample. Seeing the results of her blood pressure, she admonished her. “You’ll have to take care of yourself, love. This is too high for so early in the pregnancy.”

 “I know. I’m just in a big dilemma right now. But I’ll do my best, I promise.”

 “I get you vitamins and ask the doctor to prescribe something for nausea. Come now,” the nurse said with a smile, taking her to an examination room.

 The doctor, a lovely chubby redhead, came in with a bright smile, though her brow was furrowed. “You’re too young to have such high blood pressure. I’ll give you some time until your next appointment to lower it, alright?” When Émeline nodded, she made her lie down. “Now, let’s see the little one.”

 Doctor Karen spread the jelly on her stomach, then turned on the machine. “Just give me a moment to take measures and I’ll show you.”

 Those minutes, while Émeline waited, were excruciating. Up until then, she was sure to keep the baby but seeing how little time she had, there were still other options. Her eyes welled with tears and she had to cover her mouth not to whimper.

 Then, it came. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Like a little hummingbird’s beak thumping against a feeder. Émeline gasped. “Is that his heart? It’s beating so fast!”

 With a smile, the doctor nodded. “It’s a normal beat. Babies’ hearts beat faster, then slower as they grow. From what I see, everything is good.” She turned the screen toward the young woman and explained was what shown. “You’re about twelve weeks from what I see but your blood tests will confirm that with your hormonal charge.”

 “H-How big is he right now?”

 “The size of a kiwi.” Doctor Karen wrote down a website’s address on her notepad. “You can follow his development on this, week by week.”

 “His? Is it a boy?”

 “It’s too early to tell. We can confirm at your twenty weeks ultrasound.”

 Émeline let her tears fall freely this time. “Okay,” she whispered.

 “Should I stop? Are you thinking of other solutions?”

 “N-no. I’m just a bit overwhelmed. It wasn’t a planned pregnancy. But I’m keeping it. There’s no way I’m not. I want to see this little kiwi,” she responded through her tears.

 “Very well. Now, I’ll do a vaginal exam to make sure all’s well and give you a few more pointers for what’s to come.”

 The young woman barely retained any information during the rest of the appointment and was glad to have a stack of pamphlets and notes to read.

 During the drive home, Émeline’s heart tightened at the idea to tell both Tom and her friends about the baby but it had to be done. At twelve weeks, she’d show soon, and her symptoms couldn’t be ignored. Also, she’d have to arrange her replacement for Clem’s classes and push back her research.

 Getting in her apartment from her independent entrance, she threw her keys on the table and was about to flop onto her bed to read when she saw Clementine at the bathroom door. The woman’s nostrils were flaring, and her eyes would’ve shot daggers if she could’ve. She closed the space between them and slapped Émeline with all her might.


	5. Chapter 5

Her cheek tingling, Émeline stared at Clem, stunned. “What was that for?”

 The woman didn’t answer, tapping her foot while she crossed her arms. Then, Émeline saw. On the bathroom counter were the three pregnancy tests. _But I put those in the drawer!_ She looked up. “Did you go through my things?”

 Her jaw clenched, Clementine uncrossed her arms staggered backward. “You really are pregnant!” she spat. “How could you do this to me? How you could you be so stupid?”

 The accusation went unanswered as Émeline felt her anger rise. Instead, she went to the bathroom and grabbed the pregnancy tests, wanting to keep them as a souvenir. She held onto them as she returned in the room. “This might be your house, but I am allowed some privacy.” Finding a small shoebox in her closet in which she’d stored other souvenirs, she put the tests in it under Clem’s glare.

 When she finally spoke again, Émeline felt her emotions bubbling to the surface. “Why does this make you so mad?”

 But Clementine ignored her question, asking one herself. “Is it Tom’s baby?”

 “I’m not answering anything about it, Clem. Not while you’re like this” the young woman replied as she turned around. “You invaded my privacy, you slapped me, and called me stupid. Calm down, then I’ll talk to you.”

 The words infuriated the Professor even more. “I owe you nothing. I gave you a job and home and this is what you do with it? Whore around?”

 Her eyes narrowing, Émeline faced her friend. “Excuse me? Are you looking for me to slap you back or something?”

 “I _want_ an explanation!”

 “Why? What is there to explain? I had sex and now, I’m pregnant. Did I ask for any of this? No, I didn’t. You’re the one you said you’d help me through it all and I thought you meant it. I thought you were my friend.”

 “I never said I’d help you through a _pregnancy_!” Clementine shrieked. She slapped the wall near Émeline’s head. “How could you do this to me?”

 There was a tumble in the hallway and Fletch appeared. Émeline turned away, her eyes stinging with tears. She grabbed her keys, ready to leave, but the man stopped her. “What did you do to Clem? Why is she screaming like this? You know she’s supposed to stay calm.”

 “Ask her,” Émeline answered, nodding to Clem. “She’s the one that came down on me like a hawk.”

 Leaving just as quickly as she’d arrived, the young woman went straight to her car and drove without a purpose. Tears ran down as she made her way along the small streets of Bromley. The drive was quiet, the town pausing while children were in school and adults at work.

 Eventually, she eventually parked behind the university’s main building and let herself break down; her hands gripped on the steering wheel. She hunched over the steering wheel, crying as Clem’s accusations tumbled in her mind. Nothing of the sort was supposed to happen, especially since she’d never met Tom. _And I’m on the pill for God’s sake! I can admit it wasn’t really bright if Tom didn’t put a condom, but I can’t remember._ “I CAN’T!” she cried out. Émeline sniffled and lifted only to lean back on her seat, then made it go down to lay back. Her hands immediately went to her stomach. She cupped it and whispered, “What do I do, Kiwi? I want to keep you but…” Her eyes full of tears, she closed them and sniffled. “But nothing. I’m keeping you, no matter what. No matter what Clem says, no matter what Fletch says.” Gently rubbing her barely-there bump, she added, “It’s going to be you and me, Kiwi. We can do this. I’m not a kid anymore and I’ll own up to this. Just need to see your Daddy and tell him about you.”

 Wiping her tears, Émeline turned on the engine and slowly drove back to the house. Her heart thumped in her chest while her blood pumped through her veins faster and faster as she approached. The fear she felt, the dread in this confrontation, nearly made her turn around. Clementine was her best friend, halfway between a sister and a mother. Disappointing her was the hardest thing she’d ever done, not that she wanted to. But a child wasn’t a toy to be thrown away and Clem was in the best position to know that. Émeline knew she had options; abortion was one of them. Having seen Kiwi, she knew she’d never be able to go through with it; the same for adoption.

 Once she parked in the driveway, the young woman slowly walked up the stairs to her loft to find Fletch sitting on her bed. The look he had in his eyes was telling. He stood to meet her. “Emi… I… uhm…”

 “Out with it, Fletch. Where’s Clem?”

 “She’s on the phone with the Dean.”

 Émeline felt a pang in her stomach and sucked in a breath. “The Dean? Why?”

 “Clem is… She…”

 “What, Fletch?”

 “She’s fired you from teaching her classes. And has moved to remove you from the faculty. Your research is abandoned. If you want to continue it, it won’t be at Bromley.”

 It was like the carpet slipped beneath her feet. Her life’s work was taken away from her. She staggered back and asked, “What? But… why? It has nothing to do with the baby.”

 The man shrugged. “She’s angry like I’ve never seen her before. I tried to reason with her but with the meds on top of her moods, she nearly threw me out, too.”

 “Too? She’s...throwing me out?”

 “It’s her house. She inherited it from her father, remember?”

 “So, she sent you to do the dirty deed without facing me?”

 “Clem didn’t trust herself not to hit you again and didn’t want you to press charges.” Fletch ran his fingers through his brown hair. “I’m so sorry, Emi, but you have to go. She’s taking her anger out any way she can.”

 “By taking away my life project? Just because I’m having a baby and that you still haven’t managed to?” It was a low comment, she knew that, but at this stage, she didn’t know how else to react. “Wow, I’m sorry that my uterus is active.” Shaking her head while more tears pooled in her eyes, Émeline walked up to her closet. “I’ll be gone by nightfall.”

 “You don’t have to go so fast. Clem said by the end of the month.”

 Clenching her jaw, the young woman turned to Fletch. “I won’t be here longer than needed, I promise.” She pulled her suitcases out, thinking it wouldn’t be that long - the loft was fully furbished when she moved in and she owned nothing but what she’d arrived with and amassed over the years. “One thing, though. Can I get Tom’s number?”

 His face turning sour, Fletch shook his head. “I don’t have it. Tom was always the one to contact me because he keeps having to change phones. Crazy fans and all.”

 “You mean I have no way of telling him about the baby?” Worry insinuated itself in every fiber of Émeline’s being. “He has a _right_ to know. I don’t want or need his help if he doesn’t want to give it, but he should know he’ll be a father.”

 “Nothing I can do, Emi.” The man walked to the door. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before sleeping with him.”

 “Fletch, come on! I didn’t plan this, it just happened! What kind of person would I be if I did that? I didn’t know Tom at all before that night. You know I’m not into the celebrity stuff. And you _know_ I didn’t know him.”

 The man barely replied, shrugging as he began to turn the doorknob. “Tell me it doesn’t look suspicious. You meet this guy, sleep with him, get pregnant. And at the same time, you need money for your research.”

 Nausea rose quickly in Émeline’s stomach, but she wasn’t sure it was the usual pregnancy nausea or her utter disgust of the conversation. She covered her mouth for a moment as her tears of sadness turned into tears of rage. “You know me so little, Fletch. Same for Clem. I thought we were friends and you’ve just turned me into a conniving snake. Just leave me alone so I can pack and get the hell out.”

 “I’ll leave you to it. And one more thing… Don’t antagonize Clem. She has enough to deal with.”

 That was the last straw. “Like I don’t?” Émeline slammed the closet door closed and began filling her suitcases with her belongings; clothes, books, pictures, toiletries. What didn’t fit in there, she stuffed in her small car. Anger made her go even faster, her mind crystal clear. The pain she felt was stuffed down so she could leave the loft she called home for the last four years.

 When she sat in her car, the woman fought back tears again, a hand on her belly. “We can do this, Kiwi,” she whispered.

 Looking up at the loft window, she saw Clementine and Fletch, the woman having her arms crossed and a frown on her face. It was obvious she was angry but Émeline still couldn’t understand the true reason. “Having a child is not a crime...and she still might get pregnant!” she said as she put the car in gear, leaving behind her life in Bromley.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Clio,_

_I’m so fat! Well, not fat, just big. Kiwi’s gotten huge in the last few weeks and I’m walking like a penguin. But you know what? I love it. Every single second. I thought that after being an Au Pair nanny, I wouldn’t want kids, but it turns out I do. Even if I’m alone._

  _I can’t find Tom. I’ve tried so hard but finding a celebrity that has tons of security around him makes things difficult. At this point, I’ve all but given up. I wouldn’t hide Kiwi from him if we met but looking without success is getting hard on my heart._

  _At least, my research has led me to know a bit more about him, the surface, mostly. Some things I can tell the baby so, that’s good. I just wish he was here._

 ~;~

 

The sun had risen high in the sky when Émeline set foot in Sonnets, the small bookstore she worked in. Her tote bag over her shoulder, she smiled when Vanessa, her boss, came to greet her. “Morning, Vee. How are you?”

 “Morning, sweetheart. I’m well, and you?” the old woman said as she cupped her cheek. “I’ve made some mint tea for us. You said Kiwi likes it.”

 Rubbing her swollen belly, Émeline smiled. “She does, yes.”

 “She? You had your scan?”

 “Oh, I did. But we still didn’t see anything. The little one is shy.”

 “Isn’t she just?” Vanessa shook her head. “I guess you’ll have to go on and be surprised, then.” She guided Émeline to the storeroom, her hand under the young woman’s elbow. “How long to go now?”

 “I’m officially at twenty-eight weeks today,” she answered, a hand under her belly. “I’m getting heavier by the day.”

 Vanessa nodded. “It’s time we find you another place to live, you know. You can’t keep going up and down those stairs.”

 “I’m fine, I promise. I’m taking things slow, having things delivered.” She poured boiling water into two mugs that had mint leaves. “I’m careful, Vee. Everything’s going to be fine.”

 “If you say so.” The woman smiled, picked up the mugs, and went back to front. “We’ve got a nice little delivery this morning. The library at Cambridge has culled its Arts and History section and have sent over what’s still in good quality for us to do with as we please.”

 The news made Émeline happy. “Do you think they have anything that could be useful for me?”

 “Who knows, sweetheart? Let’s unpack it together and you’ll code them. You know my eyes aren’t that good for those small numbers.”

 Nodding, Émeline followed. “I know, Vee. I’ll do it all for you.”

 The two women settled comfortably, Émeline behind the desk, Vanessa at the front. They worked in unison all morning, one unpacking the books, the other filling the information in the computerized system. Émi put aside books to read in case she ever went back to University.

 As they worked, Émeline observed the woman who’d saved her from homelessness a few months before. She’d arrived in Camden with all her belongings in her car, completely lost. The young woman had driven around Bromley for a while, wondering what to do, then eased on the motorway. She’d only stopped when she saw a familiar name, Camden. The small borough reminded her of something, but she couldn’t pinpoint it.

 When a small café appeared in her view, she parked by it and went in for a meal. But as soon as she was done, the food came back up. It was Vanessa that had found her in the washroom, hunched over the toilet, crying her eyes out. She’d taken her to her bookshop across the street and cared for her until Émeline had calmed down.

 In Vanessa, Émeline found some stability, a mother like her own hadn’t really been. After hearing her story and finding out about her credentials, Vanessa had hired the young woman to help her with the shop while her own daughter left for a much-needed vacation with her husband and children.

 The transition from teacher/student to future mother and bookkeeper had been a strange one for Émeline, but the peace and calmness of the bookshop was what she needed. Still, she sometimes wondered why Vanessa had helped her this way, giving her a job and a home; the flat upstairs belonged to her and she usually rented it monthly to a student or tourists.

 Worrying her bottom lip as she observed the older woman, Émeline finally opened her mouth to ask but was interrupted by Vanessa’s soft voice. “What is it, sweetheart?”

 “How do you always know?”

 “I can hear you thinking. You’re very loud, child,” Vanessa replied, turning toward her. “What is it?”

 “I was just wondering why you helped me like that when I got here.”

 “Oh, that. Marion never told you?” she asked about her own daughter.

 “No, and I didn’t ask. She accepted me just as you did so I felt strange questioning your kindness.”

 Sipping her tea, Vanessa sat forward. “I was an unwed mother, Émeline. But in my days, an unwed mother was not well seen in society. I had Marion at a very young age following a love affair with a married man. It was wrong of me… of him. But I loved him. I had the foolish notion he’d care for me but when I told him about my pregnancy, he threw me away like an old newspaper.”

 “Oh, Vanessa! I had no idea.”

 “It’s fine, it was a long time ago. Like you, someone found me in my distress and welcomed me into her home while Marion grew in my belly. She showed me how to care for a home, prepare it for a baby. I even stayed there after Marion was born to learn how to properly care for her. That home was a godsend for me, and I promised myself that whenever I could, I’d help young people in need.”

 “So, when you found me, I was the perfect candidate?” Émeline asked, rubbing her belly when she felt the baby tumble.

 “I don’t see you that way, sweetheart. But I’m happy to help you and Marion was more than in agreement as well. She knows my story and how dear it is to my heart. You’re the first pregnant woman, might I add.”

 “Oh! I didn’t know that.”

 Vanessa reached over the desk, pressing her hand gently. “Have you made any progress with that young man?”

 Reminded of Tom, Émeline shook her head, looking down. “I feel like a stalker, looking online for his whereabouts. But even when I know he’s in London, how am I supposed to find him? I don’t know where he lives, Vee.”

 “I know, dear. Perhaps a good sign from the gods will help.”

 It always made Émeline laugh when Vanessa mentioned the gods, as they both had smiled when finding out Tom had played a god of Norse mythology. She responded with a nod and a smile. “Maybe.”

 “And how about your mother?”

 The thought of Alice back in Montreal irked Émeline. “Oh, she hasn’t changed her mind. I’m ruining my life by having a baby alone.”

 A tsk of disapproval came from Vanessa’s mouth. “Not true, sweetheart. Otherwise, Marion would’ve ruined mine. Look what she brought me instead. Two beautiful grandchildren and a blooming business. You know this bookshop was her idea?”

 “I know, yes. It’s a wonderful idea and I absolutely love it here.” Her stomach began to rumble. “And my stomach would love food and not to talk about my mother. How about the café’s wrap and salad menu today?”

 “Lovely, Émeline. Take some money in the register and be careful.”

 “Vanessa, I’m crossing a street, not running a marathon,” she replied as she stood and waddled to get money from the cash register.

 The older woman joined her and rubbed her belly. “I know, but you have to care for two. Kiwi’s there, too.”

 Émeline loved that the nickname had also stuck with her benefactor. Slowly making her way to the café, she ordered their lunch and went through the magazines left around by other customers. One of them had Tom on the cover. His smile radiated and gave her a chill of pleasure. All this time later, she had a flash of his eyes while over hovered over her, his hand kneading the flesh at her hip. Shaking her head to chase the memory away, she still read up on Tom’s latest movie to come out. Not in the least bit interested by such a film, she flipped the pages and found out he was also going to be in a play soon at the Barbican; it made her heart beat faster. _I could reach him that way!_ Seeing the dates the play would run, Kiwi would be born by then so it might be easier.

 Hearing her name called out, Émeline paid for the meal, grabbing the salads and wraps in a bag, and a cardboard tray with strawberry smoothies; Vanessa’s favorite. Going back to the bookshop, the young woman saw from afar Sonnets’ door closing, meaning their lunch would be pushed back a little; customers always came first.

 Émeline entered quietly and went to the back to put the food down, separating the wraps and salads: chicken and beans for her, avocado and salmon for Vanessa. They’d share a garden salad when they’d sit down.

 A soft gasp from Vanessa made Émeline go back inside the store, sipping her smoothie. “Are you okay, Vee?” She could see her by a bookcase. “Vee? What’s the matter?” Frowning, the young woman hurried to see what was going on.

 When she got there, not only did she feel a kick from the baby, but her breath taken away. Émeline dropped her smoothie the moment her eyes met with Tom Hiddleston’s.


	7. Chapter 7

Her heart racing, Émeline staggered backward, holding on to the counter. “T-Tom?”

Smiling broadly, he came out of the dark of the bookcases to meet her. “Emi...” His face changed when he saw her belly. “Oh, dear.” He blinked repeatedly, then looked into her eyes, searching for something. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

He scratched his jaw, blinking still. “I… I… I should’ve called. I should’ve… I… I don’t know what to say.”

Vanessa put her hand on his forearm. “Come, dear. I think you need some tea.”

“Or whiskey,” Émeline mumbled. “I’ll be right there. I’ll clean up.”

The older woman shook her head. “No, Émeline. You’ll go sit down and talk with this young man. I’ll clean up.”

Émeline was about to protest but saw Vanessa’s eyes; she only made those when she did not want backtalk, which was rare. “Alright, Vee.” She led the way to the storeroom and put the kettle on, then stored the food in the small fridge they kept in the back.

Tom sat heavily, keeping her eyes on her. “Émeline, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly. “I’m fine. Fine.” The more she said it, the more it felt wrong. She wasn’t fine at all, having had no time to prepare what she’d say to Tom. There were a thousand things but just one that was truly important; he would be a father.

He spoke up. “You’re obviously not. Come sit with me.” Tom’s voice was soft without a trace of anger.

Bracing on the counter, Émeline swallowed hard and turned to him, then sat. “This is…”

“Not how you wanted me to find you. I got that, darling.” He took her hand, eyeing her belly. “Are you alright?”

She knew he meant the baby this time and she rubbed her belly gently. “We are. Twenty-eight weeks, ten fingers, ten toes. Kiwi’s doing well and so am I.” She sighed heavily. “I’ve been meaning to contact you… I tried to contact you but never managed to. Your agency, online, Twitter. But you’re kind of famous and that was hard. I’m the one that looked like a crazy fan so I just gave up.”

“Why didn’t Fletch or Clem give you my number?”

With an even heavier sigh, Émeline told him in short what had happened. “Fletch said he didn’t have your number, that you changed it regularly because of crazed fans. I believed him.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tom shook his head. “He’s always had my number, even when I changed it. I will need to speak with him…”

“No, Tom, that’s not necessary. The important thing is you know now and that the baby’s fine.  I made a little nest for Kiwi and I, with Vanessa and Marion’s help.” Émi told him a little bit about the women and what they’d done for her.

He listened but still looked perplexed.“Are you naming our child Kiwi? Please don’t!”

Émeline finally let out a laugh and explained. “It’s from the first ultrasound and how small she was.”

“She? It’s a girl?” Tom’s blue eyes suddenly shone brightly.

“I don’t know. We haven’t been able to see yet. But I think it’s a girl,” she answered, absentmindedly rubbing her belly. She looked into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I don’t want to impose anything on you but regardless of what you would’ve said, I was keeping the baby. I just thought you should know. You deserve to know you’ll be a father and I’m sorry. I… I…” Her breath accelerating, she felt her eyes sting with tears. “I’m so s-sorry!”

“Hey, hey, Émeline, no!” Tom brought his chair closer and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay, calm down!” He kissed her temple, then put a hand on her belly while kneeling beside her chair. “This is not how I expected to become a father but… It’s a child and it’s your body. I could never ask you to get rid of it. If I’m completely honest, I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I’ve always wanted children.”

The tears she’d been holding back rolled down her face and she covered it with her hands, sobbing softly. “I thought you’d hate me or think I wanted to entrap you. It was just one night…”

“One night during which we were both adults who drank too much. This child is as much your responsibility as it is mine.” He gasped and looked down. “I… Was that a kick?”

Émeline laughed through her tears. “Yes. Kiwi gets kicky when I stop moving. I think she likes being carried around.” Sniffling, she moved Tom’s hand to her side. “Wait a bit, she might do it again.”

They waited in silence until another kick was felt and it was Tom’s turn to have his eyes wet with unshed happiness tears. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispered.

“If you want to,” was all Émeline could reply. “You can be as involved as you want.”

He lifted his head. “This is my Kiwi, too. I’ll be there all the way, Émeline.” He stood when the kettle whistled. Tom went to pour water over the tea bags, bringing the sugar and milk. “You should eat, darling,” he said when he noticed the food in the fridge. He brought it to the table and put it in front of her.

“It’s also Vanessa’s food. Do you mind if I bring her in? She’s been so important and I’d really like it if you two met properly. She’ll be like a grandma to Kiwi.”

When he nodded, Émeline invited the woman in, setting the table for them and adding a mug for tea. She introduced the two officially and Vanessa was quite welcoming, much to Émeline’s relief; she knew the woman was protective of her.

“So, Thomas, what are your plans towards my Émeline?” Vanessa asked before sipping her tea.

With an uncomfortable chuckle, he rubbed his goatee. “Well, I… I want the best for her. I want her not to need anything for herself and the baby.”

Vanessa patted his hand. “Good boy. She’ll need a place to live.”

“Wait, what?” Émeline felt her stomach clench. “You’re throwing me out?”

The woman shook her head. “Of course not, sweetheart. But you and I both know you can’t keep climbing those stairs. You’re getting heavier by the day, you said it yourself, and the stairs make you quite tired. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. And I can’t imagine you carrying the baby and all the things it’ll need all the time. It’s a flat for one person, Émi, not a family.”

Émeline worried her bottom lip. “I… What else can I do? Where am I supposed to go?” Having spent most of her savings getting things for the baby, she couldn’t afford more than she gave Vanessa for rent.

“This young man here will help. Won’t you, Thomas?”

He nodded quickly. “Of course. Uhm…”

“Vanessa, you don’t have to impose like that. I can find someplace else.” _I hope._ Feeling uncomfortable, she pushed off her food, rubbing her belly when she felt the baby moving. Internally soothing her child, she stopped listening to the conversation, suddenly worried about her future.

Imposing on Tom like that wasn’t something she wanted but Vanessa was doing it for her. Her stomach clenched again and Émeline knew it wasn't just worrying. She got up and waddled to the bathroom, retching and heaving over the toilet. Groaning, she managed to get herself under control when Tom knocked and cracked the door slightly open.

“Émeline, are you alright?”

“Fine, yes. Just a minute, okay?”

Lifting, she braced on the counter, then rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her. It was when she looked at herself in the mirror that she saw Tom was still there, his brow creased in worry. She turned to him while drying her hands. “I said I was fine, Tom.”

“I heard you, but I’m still allowed to worry. I think Miss Vanessa and I went a bit far and scared you, didn’t we?”

“Can’t hide anything from you.” With a heavy sigh, Émeline leaned against the counter. “Tom, I don’t want to turn your life upside down, even if… Well, a baby does that. But you have your job, your family, friends. And maybe you have someone in your life! I can’t just barge in like that.”

He suddenly covered her mouth with his hand, approaching his face. “Shush, Émi. I remember now what attracted me so much about you… You talk a lot.” He smiled then removed his hand. “We’ll do this at your pace and we can talk about anything you want. For now, both Vanessa and I would like you to rest. You just vomited.”

“I did but I... “ Seeing the look in his eyes, she knew to protest was out of the question. “Fiiiine.”

Scrunching her face, she gently pushed him away from the door and passed him, then wrapped her food to store it. Her purse on her shoulder, she then made her way to the front. Vanessa was tending to a customer so Émeline left, getting out only to unlock the door next to the bookshop.

Tom followed closely, his hands on her hips. “Careful now.”

She stopped in the middle of the stairs. “Tom, I’m pregnant, not invalid. And I can still walk.”

He hummed and nodded her forward. “Just being careful.”

Émeline ignored the remark, suddenly feeling like a China doll. She dropped her purse on the chair by the door, her keys on top then went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. About to ask Tom if he wanted one, she caught his expression as he looked around. “What? What is it?”

“You were expecting to have a baby in this teeny tiny flat?”

“And where would you want me to have it? Buckingham Palace?”

Again, Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “Émeline, give me some credit here. I’m just…” He sighed and flopped on the couch. “I don’t know how I should act. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s my job, but this is real life. I have nieces and nephews but… Kiwi will be my child. I can’t return it to the store if it doesn’t work.” He looked at her when Émeline approached. “I want to do the right thing.”

Moved by his words, she sat by his side. “You already are. You didn’t run away and make a Tom-shaped hole in the door.”

He laughed and turned to her. “So, where do we begin?”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Settling into life with a father for her child changed how Émeline saw her future. Suddenly, it wasn’t so scary anymore and she didn’t fear to raise Kiwi alone. She didn’t expect a relationship with Tom, though. As she boiled water for tea, she thought that the fact that he wanted to be present for everything having to do with the baby reassured her more than anything else.

 He was looking at the crib she’d bought at a goodwill store, testing its solidity. “This won’t do, Émeline. It’s not sturdy enough.”

 She sighed as she turned to lean against the counter. “It’s what I can afford for now and it’ll do as long as Kiwi is small. I’ll advise later, Tom.”

 “I’ll get one for you. But not here.”

 Émeline frowned. “What do you mean, not here?”

 Tom turned to her. “Your boss was right, Émeline. You can’t keep coming up and down those stairs as you get further along in your pregnancy.”

 “Again, I’m not invalid, I’m pregnant,” she replied with an annoyed sigh.

 “Émeline…” Tom shook his head, a smile etching on his lips. “I never said that.” He came to her, rubbing her arm. “I only want to look out for you. And I don’t think stairs is such a good idea.”

 Pulling her to the couch, he made her sit down, then went back to the boiling kettle. He returned with the teacups, sitting beside her. “Émi… I want to offer you something but I’m certain you’ll say no. But I still have to say it.” He took in a deep breath and said, “I want you to come live with me.”

 Blinking a few times, Émeline let the information sink in, then asked, “Are you out of your mind? You’ve known less than two hours that you’re going to be a father and you want me to move in?”

 “I know it sounds absurd but think about it. You live in a cupboard-size flat and you’re having a baby. You’ll need space for when Kiwi grows up. And… I want to be close to my child.” Tom reached for her hand, engulfing it in both of his. “Nothing needs to happen between us. I’m offering you a place to live, a place for our baby to grow up. I know that I’m not always there, that I’m busy but… I’d feel more comfortable knowing you’re safe in my home.”

 “I don’t know, Tom. I just feel like this is too much too fast. You barely just found out this is your baby and you’re reacting way too well to this. Pinch me.”

 He leaned down to pick up her mug and give it to her, then lightly pinched her. “Think it over, please?” he asked when she gasped.

 She rubbed her arm and nodded. “Fine, I will.” Her heart was thumping in her chest, her mind racing. It was true the apartment was small, that the crib wasn’t new, but it was all she could afford. As much as Vanessa wanted to help, Émeline couldn’t bring herself to borrow money from her. Tom was rich, she knew that much, but she didn’t want to be that woman, the ‘gold digger’. She had made up her mind before to live without him and raise Kiwi without a father. Now, he was there.

 Her hands shaking, she put the mug down before even sipping the tea. “Uhm...I have an ultrasound coming up at thirty-two weeks. Do you want to be there?”

 “Yes! Yes, I’d love to!”

 His enthusiasm warmed Émeline’s heart. She smiled. “You’ll see, it’s so wonderful. The heart beats really fast. I can’t see its face, though, it’s not a 3D scan. But last time, I was able to make Kiwi move, though not enough to see if it’s a boy or a girl.”

 “Maybe this time, we’ll be lucky. Perhaps Daddy will be the charm.”

 The ‘we’ also helped the young woman feel more secure about this big change. “Maybe yeah. But Tom… I’m not sure where we should go from here.”

 He picked up his mug and settled back on the couch. “We can take things slow. Tell me what’s been going on with you. What happened with Clem and Fletch?”

 She rolled her eyes. “How long do you have?”

 “All day,” he replied with a wink. “I only have a theater rehearsal in the morning.”

 “You asked for it.” Émeline went into more details about the fight with Clem that led to her being thrown out of the loft. “It was scary, to be honest. Both because I was out of a job and homeless but also...I’d never seen Clem like that before. I know the meds were part of the issue, but she really overreacted,” she explained with a heavy sigh. “I tried to reason with Fletch but you know how he loves his wife. He’d do anything for her.”

 “Still, I’m surprised he didn’t put his foot down. This is way over the line and not something he’d condone.”

 Émi sighed. “She was like I’d never seen her before.”

 “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I saw them a few months ago and all they said was that you left. Didn’t go into detail but I thought it was odd. Clem was defensive, so I let it go,” Tom replied.

 “How was she?” Tears welled up in Émeline’s eyes. Despite everything that happened, she still missed her friend on occasion. “I’m still so angry at her, though. Sometimes, it keeps me awake at night. I mean, if I didn’t have Vanessa or Marion, where would I be? On the streets? I could’ve lost Kiwi! And I lost my job and my research.”

 “I’m just as angry. And when the time comes, we’ll talk to them.”

 Tilting her head to the side, Émeline smiled as she blinked tears away, and rubbed her belly. “Why? It won’t change anything. And I managed well. Vanessa and Marion helped me.”

 “But they stopped you from contacting me, Emi,” he answered, his voice a tone lower. “Had I not come in the bookstore today, who knows how long it would’ve taken for me to know I’ll be a father? This is the greatest thing to ever happen to me in my life and I could’ve missed it.”

 She reached for his hand, bringing it to her belly in which Kiwi was wiggling. Tom instantly calmed down, a smile on his lips. “See? That’s what I mean. I would’ve missed this.”

 “I know, but now, you won’t. Maybe the gods up there knew and pushed you to come in this morning.”

 “I’m sure you’re right. But I’ll tell my director he’s a god now because he wanted me to get a copy of his play.” He rubbed her belly gently, leaning over. “Hello, Kiwi. This is Daddy.”

 Émeline couldn’t help but smile, especially when the baby kicked. “See? Kiwi knows who you are.”

 “How much bigger than a kiwi is the baby really?”

 She grabbed her purse on the floor and pulled out of her phone to her pregnancy app. “Well, at twenty-eight weeks, the baby is about two pounds and fourteen inches. It can open its eyes and blink and is a bit bigger than a cauliflower. But I’m not calling my baby Cauliflower!”

 Tom burst out laughing, rubbing where the baby pushed his foot. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He looked up at her. “Have you picked out names?”

 “I do have some ideas, yes. But I’d like your input now that you’re here.”

 He smiled. “Thank you for including me, Emi. I really appreciate it.”

 Émeline pushed herself up and found the notebook she kept for baby names, bringing it back to the couch. “Tom, I’ve always wanted to include you, if _you_ wanted to be included.” She slumped down, growling at her own weight, and put the notebook in his hand. “Go ahead, look them up.”

 Tom nodded and began sifting through the notebook. “Are you serious with some of those?”

 She frowned. “Why? You don’t like them?”

 “Uhm... Augustus? Florence? They’re a bit...intense.”

 “I know. I was just reading an old novel and liked those names. But I wasn’t sure about the baby’s surname, you know. Mine is small, yours is long. I… I wasn’t sure you’d be there and...and…”

 He suddenly cupped her face. “Breathe… I’m here now. And if you’re willing, I want our baby to have my name.”

 Émeline nodded vigorously, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes, I want that.” She sniffled. “Well… uhm… names I really like are Justine or Beth for a girl and Theo or Noah for a boy.”

 Tom scrunched his nose. “My neighbor’s dog’s name is Theo so… that would be a no.”

 “Of course!” She laughed. “I’m still waiting to see the baby’s face. We might get other ideas by then.” With a groan and a sigh, Émeline pushed herself up. “Biological break.”

 “A what?” Tom looked at her, puzzled.

 “I need to pee. The baby is using my bladder as a punching bag.” She winked and made her way to the bathroom.

 As she sat there, she couldn’t believe all that had changed in the span of a few hours. Tom was back in her life, sitting in her living room, wanting to be part of Kiwi’s life, and ever more so, wanted to take care of her. While she washed her hands, all the thoughts suddenly overwhelmed her and she began sobbing, bracing on the sink. She had to sit on the toilet when they grew heavier and louder.

 Soon, Tom knocked on the door. “Émi? Are you alright? Is it the baby?”

 Sniffling, she unlocked the door while still sitting. “No,” she hiccupped. “I woke up this morning alone with my baby and now I have a new home and a father for Kiwi. It’s a lot to take in.”

 “Oh, darling.” He knelt before her, his hand on her knee. “I’m sorry. I might be pushy but it’s only because I want good things for you.”

 Émeline smiled through her tears. “Oh, I know. It’s just hormones. I’m happy about this, Tom. I just didn’t think it would happen anymore,” she said, rubbing her belly. “I had come to terms that I’d be a single mom and I was fine with that.”

 “But you’re not alone. I want to be there.” He put his hand on the other side of her belly. “Kiwi’s not alone either.”

 “Okay,” Emi whispered. Looking into his eyes, she knew Tom was sincere. She gave him a small smile, reaching for a tissue to blow her nose. “Just be ready for gross things, you know. Not everything is pretty during a pregnancy.”

 Helping her up from the toilet, Tom laughed. “I don’t expect rainbows and candy all the time. I frankly don’t know what to expect but surely not that. Or unicorns. But we can get the baby a unicorn, right?”

 She laughed, holding another tissue. “Sure. I was aiming for an animal-themed nursery.”

 “Done, darling. Now, would you like to visit my house so we can begin to plan things for the baby?”

 Emi shook her head. “No. Right now, I’m hungry. Nothing comes before food with a pregnant woman.”


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Tom picked her up for her to visit his house. Emi was still dizzy from how fast things were going. It reminded her of when she’d left Fletch and Clem’s house all those months ago.

 Tom was adamant that she lived with him and she’d given up fighting for her independence, seeing how far along she was in her pregnancy. While he drove, Emi rubbed her belly, feeling Kiwi wriggling and kicking her. Grunting, she pressed on her side. “Hey, hey, what’s this?” she asked softly. “No kicking your mother.”

 Lifting her hips to slide a bit back, she drummed her fingers over her distended abdomen. “We have a deal, you and me. You be good and I’ll feed you all the chocolate you want when you’re old enough.”

 “Is that so?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Already bargaining?”

 “We have been for quite some time. No squishing my bladder, no nausea, no weird cravings.”

 “And how is that going for you?”

 “So far, Kiwi’s been quite disrespectful. I pee all the time and I want to eat steak with a banana. At least, nausea seems gone,” she explained with a smile. “The bargaining isn’t that good on my side, but I don’t really care. It’s fun to feel movement.”

 Tom grinned, then turned into a quiet street and parked in a short driveway. “Welcome home, Kiwi and Emi.” He hurried out of the car to help her, guiding her inside.

 Emi was impressed with the size of the house. While it looked small on the outside, everything but the bedrooms and bathroom was in an open area. A modern kitchen was on the far end of the lower part, with a living room that was just as big. The high ceiling helped with the aerated space. A staircase led upstairs to a mezzanine and two closed off rooms. She suddenly frowned. “You said no more stairs. This is just the same.”

 “No, it’s not. I’m moving my office upstairs so you can have a bedroom downstairs. We can make the nursery in the same room since it’s quite large. I can work late and not disturb you.”

 “Oh.” Emi moved further in the house, exploring. “You live here alone? No pets?”

 “No. I’m not home enough for that, though I will be from now on. Did you want a pet?”

 Frowning again, she shook her head. “You don’t have to change your schedule for me. You have a play coming and you’re not canceling because you’re hosting a whale in your home.”

 He let out a frank laugh as he joined her. “You’re not a whale. And yes, I will be doing the play. But I can refuse other projects until the baby’s born and a few months old. I want…” He took her hand, smiling. “I want to be there fully, for you and for Kiwi. I’m not missing my child’s birth just because I have to work. I’ve missed enough as it is so far.”

 “Okay, Tom. I was just telling you that you can miss some stuff. You’ll see, doctor’s appointments get boring when you don’t know the sex, and nothing has changed.”

 “Well, next appointment, I’ll talk to Kiwi and he’ll listen.”

 “ _She_ will listen.”

 “I thought you didn’t know the sex.”

 “I don’t but I have a feeling it’s a girl.” She smiled broadly. “I don’t know why but we’ll see.” Going to his bookcase, she saw rare books. Among them was The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. “Oh, wow! This is an old one.”

 “My favorite, yes. My mother got me this edition for my birthday last year. I look for old ones every time I get to a bookstore.” Tom came over, pulling the book out. “I’m going to read this one to Kiwi.”

 “You’ll do the voices?” He nodded and she smiled. “I was about to say I want to be there but until Kiwi comes out, I won’t have a choice to.”

 He booped her nose, then gently took her by the elbow, leading her to a room in the back. “So, my office is there but I’ll move it upstairs with some friends and bring the furniture downstairs. I can paint whatever color you want.”

 “That’s not necessary or good for me to smell paint at the moment. Just a bed will be fine.”

 “If you say so. It’ll be done today so you can move as soon as possible.”

 “Then, I’ll go home and pack.” She looked around Tom’s office, seeing trophies and framed movie posters all around. “Are you leaving those with me? We could decorate the baby’s room with movies, too.”

 “Maybe. We’ll see. Now, the boys will be here soon. I’m not allowing you to help carry furniture, so you have choices. Enjoy the sun in the backyard or be a good little woman and cook us a meal.”

 Her hair whipping her face, Émeline glared at Tom. “Excuse me?”

 He gave her a boyish grin. “What? You don’t like to cook? I remember you being quite good in there.”

 “I am, to those who deserve it. And you, Mr. Hiddleston, deserve to go in the corner and think about what you said.” She smiled back at him. “You’ll be practice for discipline later.” Heading to the back door, she turned at the last second. “I’ll be lounging outside. Enjoy sweating!”

 While she rested in the shade with a calm baby, she could hear the men grunting inside, yelling instructions to each other. Émi thought it best to remain inside, knowing men trying to build up furniture could be dangerous. Still, despite what she’d said earlier, she went inside to see what Tom had in the fridge. She laughed when she opened it. “Clearly, he’s afraid I’ll starve.”

 The appliance was packed with produce, milk, meats of all kinds. _He probably went to the market when he left my place,_ she thought as she grabbed a pack of chicken breasts. Foraging through the kitchen, Émi was able to find everything she needed to cook Tom and his friends a nice honey mustard chicken stew with sweet corn and sautéed potatoes.

 It didn’t take long for them to follow their noses which led them to the kitchen. Tom made the introductions quickly, the helpers being his brother-in-law and a college friend. They sat together to eat and get to know each other.

 The evening went by quickly when Tom’s friends left, the two sitting together to shop online for baby things. Emi sat close to Tom, just as she had at her apartment. His presence was reassuring more than anything and she wondered what would happen later on after Kiwi was gone.

 “Tom, are you seeing anyone?”

 He seemed surprised at the question but shook his head. “No, I’m not. You and Kiwi will have my entire devotion.”

 She laughed. “I’m not asking for that much, but I wanted to know if someone else was in the picture and how to deal if that was the case.”

 “Nobody. The only thing I had considered was getting a dog at some point. I want to slow down the overseas projects, maybe do more theater. So, a dog would’ve been a nice companion.”

 “You can still get one with the baby, you know. And I love dogs.”

 He clicked on a bassinet. “We’ll see. How do you like this one?”

 For a moment, Émeline let herself imagine a life with Tom and Kiwi, a white picket fence around a house with a big yard and a couple of dogs running around. She smiled and went back to shopping with Tom, and soon, they had almost all they needed for the baby’s arrival.

 Within two weeks, Émeline was ready to go but felt nostalgic to leave behind her little nest that had been home the last few months. That day, Vanessa and Marion came up to help her come down the stairs, taking her last two bags while Tom was packing the truck with her last boxes. Vanessa squeezed her hand. “You’re always welcome here, even during your time off. We can have tea and chat while we watch Marion work.”

 Marion laughed. “Of course! And if you feel you want to come back to work after your maternity leave, you can. There will always be a place for you at Sonnets.”

 With tears of gratitude in her eyes, Émeline swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you. And we’ll see each other soon. I’ll keep you posted about Kiwi.”

 “You better, sweetheart.” Vanessa cupped her face and kissed both her cheeks. “Love you, Émeline. Don’t forget you have a family here.”

 That was enough for tears to roll down and Émeline hugged Vanessa, then Marion, nearly mute from emotion. She let Tom help her sit in the truck and buckle her seatbelt over her round belly.

 During the drive, she remained quiet, too emotional to leave yet another important part of her life behind. Tom reached for her hand as he drove, running his thumb over her knuckles, but didn’t say a word. She knew he understood how everything was changing so fast.

~;~

  _Dear Clio,_

_Everything is changing so fast. I had a hard time following at first. Tom wants to do so much, and I had to slow him down. Mostly because some things are too late to be done, others too early. He’s so excited that it’s making me super excited again._

_The nursery is ready and decorated like I wanted; with animals. I’m trying to get Tom to stop buying things because it’s making me uncomfortable, but I get Kiwi is his child too. I’m doing my best to understand that and let him unless he’s going overboard._

_I’ll admit, it’s nice to swim to the end of this pregnancy without worrying so much._

 ~;~

Two weeks into settling at Tom’s, Émeline had built a little nest for herself and the baby. The room was quite large, enough that she had Tom put up a large curtain for privacy between her bed area and the baby, so it could sleep soundly-if that was possible.

 She and Tom had settled in a routine, with him going to rehearsals and coming back in time for dinner every night. They had time to get to know each other better as Kiwi grew more and more.

 Finally, the day came for the ultrasound. Tom could barely stand still in the room. Émeline reached for his hand, pulling him to sit by her side. “Everything will be fine, stop worrying.”

 “I’m… I won’t lie, I’m nervous. I wish I’d been there from the start.”

 “Me too, but let’s not talk about that, it’s kind of counterproductive.”

 The tech came in and turned on the machine, explaining to a nervous Tom what she was doing while doing it. And when the baby’s rapid heartbeat was heard, his eyes widened. “Is that normal?”

 “Oh, yes. It’ll slow as the baby grows outside the womb,” the tech replied as she slid the wand along Émeline’s abdomen. She measured the usual and checked every side, then said, “Everything seems well. The measurements are within the normal range.”

 “That’s good. See Tom? Told you.”

 He only nodded; his eyes wet with happiness. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

 “That’s the thing…”

 The hesitation alerted Émeline, who looked at the screen. “What? Is something wrong?”

 “No, no, don’t worry. It’s just… the baby has its legs crossed. I fear you’ll have to wait until birth to know the sex.”

 It was Émeline’s turn to feel her eyes water. “Oh, God, it’s just that? I don’t care. I just want a healthy baby.”

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the tech replied. “You’re A+ on everything. So, keep with your doctor’s appointments and you’ll be fine.” She wiped the extra gel on Émeline’s abdomen and helped her up, telling her to take it easy for the next few weeks.

 On the way home, Émi made Tom stop for ice cream and as they walked, she saw a lot of people staring. “You’ve not announced you’ll be a father, right?”

 He shook his head as he licked the ice cream threatening to drip on his fingers. “No. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

 “You do realize that being seen with me will spread rumors?”

 He chuckled. “I don’t care. I’m reveling in the fact that I’ll be a father, and nothing will ruin this for me. Not paparazzi, not crazed fans, no one. The only thing that matters to me from now on is your well-being, Kiwi’s, and for you to meet my family.”

 “Hmmm… Well, you could invite them over this weekend. While I can still cook.”

 “You wouldn’t mind? I mean, you’re getting big.”

 She slapped his arm, making him drop his ice cream cone. “Oops. Well, you insulted me.”

 He glared at her, almost smiling. “Perhaps. But you are getting bigger. And now you owe me an ice cream cone.”

 “Sorryyyy.” Émeline waddled along the road to get to the car, letting out a tinkling laugh. “I’ll make it up to you.”

 He opened the door for her, and asked, “How do you plan that?”

 “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”


	10. Chapter 10

_ Dear Clio, _

_ I’m being treated like a queen, I tell you. Tom is home as much as he can, considering he’s in a play every night and sometimes in the afternoon. He’s done so much in mine and the baby’s room and he seems genuinely excited. We’ve talked again about having a dog and decided to wait until the baby’s a bit older. And we both said we’re going for a rescue, so yeah, it’s better if the baby can at least walk. _

_ He’ll take me to see the play eventually, I hope. I’d really love to see him on stage. I’ve seen a lot of his movies by now but theater is different. _

_ He makes me happy and I’m allowing myself to dream about a life with him. Not just as parents to Kiwi. But I don’t know if he wants the same thing. _

_ ~;~ _

 

A few weeks passed during which Émeline had the pleasure of meeting Tom’s family. A lot of them were a bit skeptic of her intentions at first, but both she and Tom had decided to be honest and told them how the pregnancy happened.

After all this time, though, Émeline occasionally had a thought for Clementine and Fletcher. A tiny part of her wanting to try and reconnecting while her head knew better. If Clem was still angry, seeing her near her due date would be the last nail in the coffin of their friendship. Émeline opted not to reach out. Being honest with herself, she also still had residual anger.

Instead, she spent her time unpacking baby things, washing tiny clothes, and getting settled at Tom’s, though she didn’t feel truly at home; unsure how long after the baby’s birth she would stay.

One evening while snuggled on the couch, she heard a soft knock on the door. She frowned, knowing Tom was working. But he wasn’t supposed to be home for hours. She managed to waddle to the door in time to open and see a delivery man with a wrapped box.

“Miss Émeline?”

"Yes? What’s this?”

“Tom is sending this and said to call him once you’ve tried on what he sent. Espresso Delivery thanks you for your business,” the man said as he gave her the box.

“Oh, okay! Thank you.”

Émeline closed the door and hurriedly opened the box, finding a beautiful black maternity dress, one she’d eyed at a store while with Tom. She hadn’t said a word then. “He probably saw me…” she whispered as she went to her bedroom to try it on. 

It fit her like a glove. Simple but putting her belly at its best advantage, Émi felt like a star. She read the note that came with it.

_ Dearest Émeline, _

_ Tomorrow night is the last presentation of the play and I’d love for you to see it. Please consider this your outfit if you like it. If not, we’ll find something else tomorrow. _

_ Call me if you get this before I go on stage. _

_ Love,  _

_ Tom _

_ xoxo _

“Again with the ‘love, Tom’. I’m going to start thinking he means it.” Then you might be wrong. Shaking her head as she looked at herself in the mirror, she called Tom, who answered quickly. “Thank you for the dress. It’s lovely.”

“My pleasure. So, you will come?”

“I want to. But I’m at almost thirty-eight weeks. What if my water breaks?

He laughed softly. “We’ll take care of it and get you to the hospital. In the meantime…”

There was another knock on the door, so Émeline went for it. “In the meantime what?” She opened the door and, this time, Tom was on the other side, his mouth agape and flowers in his hands.

“Wow! Perfect choice,” he finally said, his voice squeaky.

It made her blush and ask again, “In the meantime, what? You’re here when you’re supposed to be on stage.”

He entered the house and handed her the flowers. “I let my understudy take over tonight, I was feeling unwell,” he said with air quotation marks. “I wanted to spend the night here with you. I’ve been working a lot and have barely seen you. The goal of you living here was for us to know each other before the baby was born but I’ve been working a lot. Tonight is our night.”

“As long as we can talk in bed.” She suddenly realized what she said. “I mean, I’m n-not c-comfortable sitting down for too l-long…” she explained.

Tom laughed it off and guided her to her bedroom. “Get comfy, I’ll get some snacks.”

With a blush burning her cheeks, she did her best to hurry out of the dress and into pajamas, then climbed on the bed, cuddling her body pillow. When Tom returned, he made himself a little space by her side and gave her the remote. “Pick the movie, although we wanted to chat.”

Instead, Émeline picked reruns of How I Met Your Mother and stole some popcorn. “Alright. Let’s talk. What do we talk about?”

“Well, you first. I know you were studying before the whole Clem/Fletch debacle. Are you planning on going back to school?”

The question was like a punch in the gut. Émi replied, “With a baby, field research is out of the question. But for the studying, I could.”

“Why not field research? I do plan on being a hands-on father, Émi,” Tom said, a hand on her belly. “You had plans, dreams, and this child changed everything and I’m also in this. I will do all I can to help you achieve that.”

Her eyes watered as Kiwi kicked. “Thank you. That would be great. And I liked teaching when I replaced Clem. So, that could be an option.”

“Brilliant!” He leaned in. “Hear that, Kiwi? Professor Mum!”

“What about you? I’m sure you had a pretty busy life before I showed up.”

“I’ve had a busy life for ten years now. I’m taking a break after the play. As for the rest, I’ll be pickier to be closer to you and the baby.”

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t want to stop you from fulfilling your dreams. You don’t…”

“Are you kidding me? You’re giving me a child. That is a dream in itself.” He scooted down to face her belly, rubbing it gently. “See, Kiwi, your mother thinks she’s turning my life upside down. And she is, but I want that and I’m happy. Tell her that.”

Émeline grinned. “Alright, fine. But I don’t us to keep you from doing anything. Like tonight. We could’ve done this after Kiwi was born and you…” She paused, then said, “You could bask in the glory of your success on stage.”

“Oh, dear. That’s not happening. I mean, yes, the play is a success but when do I ever bask?”

“Never. I’m kidding.” Émeline poked Tom’s shoulder and he looked at her the same way he had that first night, minus the wine. She held his gaze, feeling a shiver down her spine. “Tom, don’t. The last time you did that, this happened,” she said, pointing to her belly.

“So? I’m still attracted to you. We just have time to make up for.”

She groaned, shifting uncomfortably. “Are you sure? I mean, it was one night.”

He responded by scooting up and cupping her face with a hand, pressing his lips to hers. Émeline felt every barrier she had put up against this over the last few weeks crumble down, so she kissed him back just as gently as he was. Tom finally pulled away and looked into her eyes.

“I want to take this slowly. We’re doing things a bit backwards but if you’re game, I am.”

Licking her lips, she searched his eyes while searching her own heart. Even if there was barely a foundation to their relationship, she wanted the same. “We’re a walking cliché, you know that, right?” With a laugh, Émeline sealed the deal with a kiss.

~;~

 

The next evening, with a bit of help, Émeline managed to get into her dress a second time, and prepared for Tom’s big night. All day, she’d been feeling off, her back aching and cramps pinching her stomach. She didn’t tell Tom not to worry him; she didn’t want him distracted on stage. 

Once at the theater, he introduced her to his partners and friends, then settled her into the audience for the first part. It was amazing for her to see him on stage in all his glory. And glorious he was. Shakespeare was clearly his favorite and he excelled in his role. She didn’t mind sitting in the audience alone; she was going home with the star of the show. But there was an odd feeling sitting there; she felt watched.

And when the intermission came, Émeline realized why. Clementine and Fletch were sitting two rows behind her. She was the one to come forward first. 

“Émi, can we talk?”

But her puppy eyes didn’t phase Émi one bit. “I have nothing to say to you.” She turned to leave, feeling a massive cramp this time. _ No no no no no! Not yet, Kiwi. _ Hiding her pain, she walked over to the door leading backstage, security opening it for her.

“Please, Émi, I want to apologize. I’ve been horrible to you.”

With the swiftest turn around she could, being this heavy, Émeline gritted her teeth and said, “You threw me out on the street! I was pregnant and had no one. You even cut me off from the father. I was lucky that the universe was on my side and not yours.” She regretted saying that, seeing Clem was still childless but her anger was still too present. She opened her mouth to say something more, feeling another cramp, and this time, she knew it wasn’t a cramp but a contraction. “I have to go,” she added, rubbing her belly.

Clementine looked at her, eyes wide. “Are you in labor?”

“NO! Don’t say that, you’ll attract Tom and he’s working. Let him do his job,” she said as she went backstage, cursing the fact that she wasn’t fast enough to ‘lose’ Clem. “Go back to your seat, I need to pee.”

“Émeline…” 

The tone of voice forced Émi to turn around. Her anger was bubbling up all at once. “I can’t forgive you for this because I’m still mad. I was extremely fortunate to find people that helped me, then Tom found me, no thanks to you. So, piss off, okay? I really have nothing more to say to you.”

This time, she left Clem behind and headed straight to Tom’s dressing room. He was there with other actors and she let them work after a kiss, heading to the bathroom. But nothing happened like it was supposed to. As she pulled her dress up, a clear liquid ran down her leg. “Noooo, Kiwi!” she squealed. “We said you’d wait!”

She grabbed a towel and put it on the floor to wipe her waters and waddled back to the main room but found it empty. “Dammiiit!” She sat on the edge of the couch, pulling her phone from her purse, and counted the time between contractions. One, two, three...seven minutes passed, so she knew there was still time for Tom to come off the stage.

She paced slowly around the room, rubbing her belly and breathing with every contraction. She begged Kiwi to wait longer but the contractions grew stronger and stronger with time getting shorter between every contraction. Soon, another thirty minutes had passed and when she heard a knock on the door, Émi thought it was Tom but again, Clem was there.

“How did you get here?” Émeline asked, breathing through a contraction.

"I knew you were in labor!” Clementine wrapped her arm around Émi’s shoulder and led her back inside. “How long between each?”

“Th-Three minutes. And you still haven’t answered my question. How did you get here?” she asked, resuming her pacing.

“Tom put us on the list. I don’t know if he had something in mind but here I am. Fletch… Fletch feels horrible but he was…”

“The messenger of your vitriol, I knoOOW!” The contraction knocked the wind out of Émeline, so she gripped the back of the couch. “Please leave. I don’t want you here.”

“Émi, please. I’ve had time to think about my actions and I feel horrible. I was such a bitch to you. I ruined your budding career, I deprived you of a home…”

“You deprived me of a home and a best friend I thought I could count on and share this with,” Émi replied, pointing to her round belly. “How am I supposed to welcome you back in my life?”

“You don’t have to. But if you have some time, we could talk. I we…”

“Right now, I’m kinda busy as you can see.” Another contraction came and the need to push was overwhelming. “Call an ambulance.”

Clementine frowned. “What?”

“CALL AN AMBULANCE! I want to push and I’m not having this baby here.” Émeline went around the couch and laid down while Clem made the call, directing the operator for the paramedics to come to the artists’ entrance.

But Kiwi wasn’t waiting. While she heard thunderous applause, Émi reached down to feel the baby’s head crowning. “No no no no! The baby’s coming now!”

Clementine put the phone on the table and rushed to the couch, taking her jacket off. She put it beneath Émi’s legs and said, “It’s happening now, and I’m here. Please let me help.”

Her throat tight, Émi nodded and breathed heavily while waiting for a contraction. “Try to get Tom? He can’t miss this.”

“Of course not.” Clem hurried to the door, ushered someone to get Tom, and returned to Émi. “Nearly there?”

“Y-Yes! Oh, God!” With a deep breath in, Émi began pushing at the height of the contraction, gripping a pillow. She didn’t want to scream. Her birthing plan had no screaming but then again, her plan was now out of the window.

“Come on, 8-9-10, good job! Again?” Clem encouraged her.

Émeline pushed once more until the contraction was over. But the next one wasn’t far and soon again, she was lost in numbers, breaths, and thoughts of her baby coming. The door opened, letting a frantic Tom in. 

“Am I too late?”

“NO!” Émi shouted as she began pushing again. She counted, pushed, and the pain was greater than she imagined, enough that she let out a scream from the top of her lungs.

Tom rushed by her side, taking her hand when Clem moved. “I’m right here with you, it’ll go well, darling.”

Another knock on the door and Clem let in the paramedics who sprung to action. Between contractions, they set up a more sterile environment on the couch and prepare what they needed for the baby’s arrival, while one helped Émi.

The world seemed to slow down when she looked into Tom’s worried eyes as if they were alone in the room. He whispered, “You’ve got this,” and kissed her forehead, never letting go of her hand. He lifted her with his arm around her back when she pushed again, the head of the baby now out, and encouraged her to keep pushing until the baby was fully out. It was a loud cry of the baby that brought Émeline back to reality. 

“It’s a girl!”

“A girl?” Émi cried. “Please, give her to me!”

The paramedic did so after wrapping the baby in a blanket, putting the small child into Émeline’s arms. She hugged her close, seeing a cute heart-shaped mouth on her daughter. “Hello, you. You’re early, my little Kiwi.” She looked at Tom. “Meet your daughter.”

He was crying, gently rubbing the baby’s head over the blanket. Tom kissed Émi’s temple, still looking at his daughter, his makeup running. “It’s incredible how much I love her already. Thank you for this gift.”

They shared a sweet kissed, in their little family bubble, until it was broken by the paramedic telling them it was time to cut the cord and get to the hospital. Émi glanced around the room, seeing Fletch had joined Clementine, and a few of Tom’s friends were gathered at the door with grins on their faces. She didn’t care they were all staring, her attention was focused on her child.

Once at the hospital, there was a whirlwind of things happening, both Émi and the baby getting checked out. They were settled in a private room where Tom quickly showered and called his mother and sisters, while Émeline did the same with Vanessa and Marion.

The business died down as the evening faded into night, the little family cuddled in a double bed. Tom kissed Émi again and asked, “What are we going to name her?”

“Do you have ideas?” she asked softly, smiling at the little tuft of hair on the top of her daughter’s hair.

“I like Justine. Or Elizabeth.”

“Oh, I like Elizabeth. Or maybe just Beth?”

“With my last name or both?”

“No, no, one is enough and it’ll be yours, Tom. Beth Hiddleston. And maybe, if you don’t mind, Vanessa? I’d like for our daughter to have Vanessa’s name.”

She knew Tom would understand and he nodded without a question as he stroked his baby’s back gently. “Vanessa Beth Hiddleston. Welcome to the world.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear Clio,_

_I can’t believe my little girl is three already. Everyone was here this weekend to celebrate and she loved it so much. Every day with her is a blessing. I knew I’d love being a mom after I took a break from Au Pair and I was right. It’s the best thing in my life and I love every second of it._

_Don’t get me wrong, I love being back in school, but raising her is my life. I can’t believe how much I love her more with every day that passes. Even more now that everything's about to change._

_I know I have so much to look forward to with a little girl that amazes me with everything she does. She’s so overdramatic sometimes, it makes me wonder if she’ll be an actress like her father. I mean, will he even want her to?_

 

The door opened and with it, a little girl shouting _._ “Mamaaaa? Where youuuu?”

 When she heard her daughter, Émeline closed her journal. “Where _are_ you, Beth. I’m in your room,” she said, grabbing a shirt from the clothes basket.

 The toddler came marching in while Émeline folded the shirt. She caught her daughter when she jumped into her arms. “Hello, my big girl.”

 “Found you, Mama!”

 Émeline kissed her daughter soundly and sat her on her lap. “How was your day with Daddy? Did you have fun?”

 “I had ice cream and saw a big bear, Mama.”

 “That’s great. I know how much you like ice cream. What did you have? Vanilla? Strawberry?” Émi asked.

 “She had both. The little monkey stole some of mine!” Tom said as he came in, a giant teddy bear stuffy in his arms.

 Gasping exaggeratedly, Émeline tickled her daughter until she screamed for mercy, then blew a raspberry in her neck. “Little thief of mine.”

 “No, Mama, stoooop!”

 Émi did just that and the girl climbed off her lap to go play on the floor with the stuffy when her father gave it to her. Tom came over and kissed his fiancée passionately, cupping her cheek.

 “We had a great day. And you?”

 “I studied all morning and went in for my test. I think I did well. If it went that way, Clem said I could get a teaching spot.”

 Tom smiled. “And that would be brilliant. Just in time for fall and in the meantime, we have time for the wedding and the honeymoon.”

 Émeline wrapped her arms around Tom’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “I can devote all my time to it now. Won’t be hard since we have the venue and the caterer already.”

 “Oh, we have cake tasting coming next week, right?”

 “We do. And we’re bringing Beth with us. She wants to wear that pretty dress you brought her back from Australia and I say we’d do tea and cakes. It’s enough of an event for her.”

 She kissed him slowly, humming in the kiss, and when they pulled away and she saw his blue eyes, it reminded her of that night not so long ago where she’d gotten drunk and fell into the arms of a man who was the best father for their little girl and would soon be her husband.

 “Did you think we would be here when we met three years ago?” she asked.

 He hummed and smiled. “Not for a second. But I wouldn't trade this for the world. I love being a father and I’ll have a little wife soon.”

 “There’s something else, Tom. With all my schoolwork and home stuff, I gained weight. I’m going to need a dress adjustment, a massive one.”

 “Really? It barely shows but that’s not a problem. You know I don’t care about that, you’re beautiful, but we’ll take care of it.”

 Émi smiled. “Good. I’m glad we’re getting married soon because had the wedding been any later, we would’ve had an issue. A _massive_ issue.”

 “What is it with you and the word ‘massive’? It’s not that big of a problem.” He looked at her, worried. “Have you changed your mind?”

 “No, but we’ll have an extra guest.”

 Tom frowned. “Is your mother coming to the wedding?”

 “Oh, my God, you’re slow sometimes.” Émi took his hands in hers. “Remember the night we met, how much wine we had?” When he nodded, she continued. “We did the same thing a few weeks ago.”

 “So?”

 She waited for him to get it when she put his hands on her barely-there bump.

 “Oh! OH! Brilliant!” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. “I am so happy. Oh, my God! Oh!” He hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much for this gift, again.”

 She hugged him back until she felt a tug on her shirt. Beth was staring with her arms up. Émeline picked up her daughter. “Would you like a brother or a sister, baby girl?”

 The toddler bit her lip. “I want a puppy, Mama.”

 “A puppy?” Tom asked. “What do you think, Mama?”

 Émeline smiled widely. “I think we’re going to the shelter, then, the baby store.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for following my latest craziness!


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